


sink into the floor with me, baby

by bbyfruit



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Balloon Squad, Banter, Camping, Cuddling, Dinosaurs, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, deep conditioner, more tags to b added!!!!!, three words:, yes you heard me.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbyfruit/pseuds/bbyfruit
Summary: love exists in layers and levels and parallel universes, and sometimes it exists on bathroom floors.





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: Evak and camping!
> 
> anon baby... this was supposed to be a drabble. its a multichap. i hope ur happy with what u have done to me
> 
> title from parking lot by hunny, love as always to the skamfwn, especially the support squad (yall brighten my day <3)

Isak has a lot of respect for Jonas’s moms, and he’s very grateful that they almost always include him in their family trips. It’s just that this time he’s not so grateful for the _location_ of said trip.

“Want to hike up to watch the sunrise tomorrow morning?” Jonas asks, in his element, leaning back in their tent all rugged and comfortable even though Isak _knows_ there are fucking rocks beneath them. He hates Jonas right now. Him and his fucking flannels and boots and casual enthusiasm about _camping_. Isak hates camping.

He fakes a smile as best he can. “Sounds great.”

Jonas nods, once, happily, and then promptly lays down and closes his eyes. Isak stares at him. First of all, he’s barely able to sleep on a normal night, let alone smushed in a tiny tent on top of rocks, freezing cold and not even able to drink or smoke or anything because he’s with Jonas’s moms, for fuck’s sake. And _second_ of all, possibly even more concerning than the first, Jonas didn’t brush his teeth.

No _fucking_ thank you.

Isak takes a few more moments to stare at Jonas with disgust before he grabs his backpack and heads to the bathroom, because he’s got a skincare routine and this trip is not about to fuck with it. And honestly, it’s a blessing that this campsite even _has_ a bathroom. If it didn’t, he thinks he might have cried.

Is he a little overdramatic? Maybe so.

He slips trying to get down the hill, but makes it to the bathroom anyways, stumbling through the door to the men’s half and then almost dying when he trips over something in front of the door, or _someone_ in front of the door.

“Fuck!” Isak whisper-yells, slamming into the wall.

A boy blinks up at him.

“Oh,” the boy says, nonchalant, “hey.”

“What the _fuck_?” Isak’s standing over him, one leg on either side of his chest and staring down at him.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep here.”

Isak steps over the guy, blushing, suddenly realising that he’s wrapped snugly in a sleeping bag with a pillow wedged under his head.

“Why… are you sleeping on the floor?” Isak asks once he’s standing to the side like a normal person having interactions with another normal person. In the bathroom of a campsite. Where one person is on the floor and the other is a mess. It’s normal. It’s fine.

“Because I didn’t want to sleep in a tent,” the boy on the floor says.

Isak narrows his eyes. “I’m not sure that’s, uh, logical.”

“Okay, well, I was having a great time until someone came in here and tripped over me.” The boy huffs and turns over, facing the wall.

“You’re _in front_ of the door?”

“And? Do you not look at the ground before you walk into a bathroom?”

Isak stares at him incredulously, because no, he doesn’t fucking check the floor before he walks into a bathroom, and this asshole is disgusting for even sleeping in a bathroom, and he just wants to wipe down his face with some fucking witch hazel and brush his teeth and try to get some measure of sleep.

The asshole on the floor rolls back over and grins up at Isak.

“Look,” he says cheerily, “I’m kidding. Obviously I don’t blame you.”

“Okay…” Isak answers. He’s wary, narrowing his eyes again at this fucking idiot near his feet.

“To be completely frank, I fucking hate camping. Tents do nothing and my friends are all assholes who thought we could fit six guys in a two person tent, so I’m chilling in here. You’re welcome to hang out. I’ve got weed and a guitar, plus you can share my sleeping bag.” The guy wiggles his eyebrows and Isak is still entirely unsure if he’s joking or not, because this dick is fucking unreadable. The worst part is that he’s also fucking hot and Isak is shifting uncomfortably at the idea of actually sharing that tiny dinosaur-printed sleeping bag with him.

God. This is one of the weirdest situations he’s ever been in his life. There’s no, like, social protocol for this.

“I’m Even, by the way,” the guy says, shifting up with his back pushed against the wall, sleeping bag unzipped and loosely wrapped around his hips and legs.

Isak chews at the inside of his cheek. “Isak.”

Even reaches into his pillow case and pulls out a joint and a lighter, so at least he wasn’t kidding about _that_. “Go ahead and do whatever you came in here to do,” he says, gesturing towards the sinks. “Don’t mind me.”

Shooting him a sideways glance, Isak shuffles over to the sink and glances at Even in the mirror, meeting his gaze. Isak looks away. He focuses on laying out everything in his bag on the counter, toothbrush next to toothpaste next to face wash next to towel next to cotton balls next to witch hazel, and he pretends not to notice Even watching him amusedly, exhaling smoke into the bathroom.

Isak goes about his business.

By the time he’s done, Even’s gotten up and cracked the window to let the smoke out, propped against the wall. There’s cold air tracing its way through the the bathroom and through Isak’s bones and that’s when he shivers, just barely, and the next thing he knows Even’s back across the room and tossing the sleeping bag over to him. He catches it awkwardly, blinking at Even, who just raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t really want to go back to sleeping in a tent, right?” Even points out, and Isak kind of hates that he’s right.

“No,” he admits.

Even offers him what’s left of the joint and he turns it down with a wave of his hand, saying, “I just brushed my teeth,” as a way of explanation.

“Oh, what, your mom doesn’t let you smoke weed after you brush your teeth?” Even challenges, and Isak rolls his eyes reflexively.

“They’re _clean_ ,” he argues.

Even shrugs, going back to sit where his pillow is. “Suit yourself.” He stretches out his legs and leans his head onto the cement blocks behind him. “So, what’s your problem with camping?”

Isak coughs. “Uh, I just… don’t like, uh, nature.”

“You don’t like nature,” Even repeats, raising his eyebrows.

“Bugs,” Isak says vaguely. “And… dirt. Cold,” he adds, tugging at the blanket around his shoulders.

Even nods and Isak isn’t sure, but he thinks Even’s biting back a smile.

“You don’t have someone in your tent to keep you warm?” Even asks. The corner of his mouth twitches up and his gaze is burning on Isak. Is this what flirting is? Is the fucking weirdo on the bathroom floor _flirting_ with him?

Isak pulls the blanket tighter. “My best friend.”

“My best friends are all dicks,” Even says casually. “You know what they did? They didn’t fucking let me bring my deep conditioner on this trip. And I ask you, Isak, how the _fuck_ is a man expected to survive without his deep conditioner?”

He looks at Isak almost expectantly, like he’s waiting for an answer, and Isak just stares back at him.

“The answer is that he’s _not_. I’m going to die here.” Even stubs out the joint on the floor by his feet and Isak wants to shiver at how disgusting that is, but then Even looks up and grins at him and he forgets all about it.

“Jonas didn’t let me bring a sheet mask,” Isak admits, finally cracking a smile to match Even’s. He wants to trust Even, wants to sit here on the floor and allow himself to be flirted with and stay wrapped up in Even’s sleeping bag, which is _definitely_ a child’s sleeping bag. The thing’s tiny, and plus, there’s the dinosaurs.

Even smacks the floor next to him. “That’s _exactly_ what I’m talking about,” he says enthusiastically. “There is nothing fun about not showering for three days.”

“And sleeping on rocks,” Isak adds.

“And living out of a backpack.”

Isak lets out a short laugh as Even shoots a pointed glance over at Isak’s backpack under the sink. “Fuck camping, man.”

“Fuck camping,” Even echoes. “Christ, it’s cold,” he says, rolling his shoulders, and Isak squints. He knows what Even’s trying to do. He’s just trying to decide if he’s got the guts to go for it or not, except the words push themselves out of his mouth with how bad he wants it.

“We can share,” he offers, and Even’s eyebrows shoot up like he wasn’t expecting it. “Don’t play,” Isak chides him, “you baited me for that one.”

Even shrugs smugly. “You took the bait.” He leans forward so Isak can slide down the wall and sit beside him, just close enough that he can feel the heat radiating from Even’s body but can’t quite touch him. He feels like he’s hovering on the edge of _something_ big.

But Even must not feel the same sense _magnitude_ that Isak does, because he sloppily tugs the blanket halfway off of Isak and halfway onto himself so that the two of them are nestled in, shoulders suddenly touching and Isak has to catch his breath.

“If you hate camping so much,” Even starts, leaning his weight into Isak and looking at him sideways, “why are you here?”

Isak snorts and ducks his head, rubbing at the corner of his eye. “Jonas’s moms invited me on their family vacation and I was so ready to get away from my roommate that I forgot to ask where we were going.”

Even tilts his head back and laughs, eyes scrunching up until they’re almost closed and this is the closest that Isak’s come to believing in magic since he was seven years old and Jonas told him Santa wasn’t real.

“Roommate from hell?” Even asks.

“Nah,” Isak says, because Eskild really is amazing. “He’s just… a lot.”

Even quirks an eyebrow in question and Isak tries to collect himself enough to explain the enigma that is Eskild.

“A lot like he blasts the soundtrack to the Lion King while his Grindr hookups are blowing him. Or like one time I was sad and he put fucking glitter in my pancakes.”

“At least his intentions are good,” Even shrugs.

“Listen,” Isak says firmly, “you try telling me that when you’re picking glitter out of your teeth while a half-naked man in a silk robe serenades you.”

And Even laughs again. Isak finds a small, fleeting thought in his mind, one that he quickly suppresses. He wants to make Even laugh like that for the rest of his life. Alright, fuck his touch-starved gay ass, because this boy is just sitting here and he’s already about to accept a marriage proposal.

God _damn_ it.

Even shifts and his leg presses against Isak’s.“I live with my best friends, Mikael and Yousef and Elias --”

“Wait,” Isak interrupts, because something clicks. “Yousef as in Yousef Acar? Elias as in Elias Bakkoush?”

“Yeah, why?”

Isak exhales, looking at Even earnestly. He can’t quite believe this is happening. What are the chances? “I’ve fucking been to your apartment.”

Even ducks out of the blanket so that he can twist and stare at Isak with his eyes wide and his mouth half open, half smiling. “Oh my god, what?”

“Yeah! Elias’s little sister, Sana? She’s one of my best friends.”

Two hands in Even’s hair and he’s laughing in a little gasp, asking, “Fuck, you’re _that_ Isak?”

“The fuck does that mean?” Isak asks, crinkling his nose.

“No, it’s -- it’s just that Elias keeps trying to hook me up with one of Sana’s friends and I think he said Isak, but also I was having a dance-off with Yousef at the time so I’m not entirely sure.”

“Okay,” Isak says, wrapping the sleeping bag around him now that Even’s moved. “Intel on Sana and Yousef? Is that a thing or what? Sana is super fucking cryptic.”

Even leans forward on his elbows. “You don’t know anything?”

“No! Why, what do you know?” Isak can hear that his voice is a little desperate, squeaking up at the end, but he can’t help it because he finally has a chance to know things about Sana and because Even is looking at him with light behind his eyes.

“Yousef,” Even says dramatically, “says that Sana is his _soulmate_.”

Isak pretends to fall back, matching Even’s dramatics stride for stride, one hand over his chest. “Oh my fucking God.”

“I have never seen Sana look happier than when she’s with him,” Even declares.

Isak has to restrain himself from pumping his fist in the air. “I _knew_ she had a soft side.”

“She’s simultaneously the grumpiest and softest person I know,” Even affirms and Isak laughs.

“Funny,” he says, “that’s exactly what she says about me.”

Even furrows his brows. “Okay,” he responds slowly, “I’ve seen you be grumpy. I have yet to see you be soft. And to be honest, Sana _might_ be cuter than you.”

Aghast, Isak pushes the sleeping bag off of his shoulders. “First of all, I’m soft as _fuck_ . You’ve known me for a total of, like, an hour and a half, which is _not_ an accurate representation of my dimensionality as a person. And _second_ of all, I am the world’s cutest creation. The motherfucking _master_ of being cute.”

Even’s laughing by the time Isak finishes, full body, leaning back on his elbows and baring his throat and Isak’s glad he’s not standing because his knees are weak.

“Pipe the _fuck_ down, Even,” Isak warns.

Even’s laughter slows and his smile is crooked as he says, “Fuck, my name sounds good when you say it.”

Isak’s breath stutters in his chest.

“Let me back in,” Even says, nodding to the dinosaur on Isak’s right shoulder, so Isak lifts up his arm. He expects Even to takes the corner of the sleeping bag and wrap it around himself, but he doesn’t, instead opting to wedge himself under Isak’s arm and rest his head where Isak’s shoulder meets his chest. Isak freezes.

“Is this okay?” Even asks, and Isak can feel the motion of his lips through the layers he’s wearing. “I was cold.”

Isak huffs out a little laugh. “You’re not smooth, you know. Or subtle.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not that comfortable, but here I am,” Even says. And there he is. And Isak’s on a bathroom floor in a little kid’s sleeping bag with a hot boy curled up on his chest and he has _no_ idea what good deed he did to deserve this series of coincidences. God.

Even falls asleep at some point and he’s comfortingly heavy on Isak’s chest, warm with his hand tangled in the hem of Isak’s shirt and Isak feel like he can’t move. Even is so _here_ that he’s forcing Isak to be here too, present in his body and in the blanket around them and in this bathroom. He’s still, for a long time, and then he digs out his phone, squinting his eyes against the light as he scrolls through the messages he missed.

**23:14**

**Jonas:** So you know how we’re camping

 **Jonas:** Our boy Issy snuck out and didn’t come back to the tent

 **Magnus:** isak you fucking useless twink

 **Magnus:** i can say that because im gay

 **Mahdi:** bro you’re bi

 **Jonas:** Isak my fuckin moms are asking about you where are u

 **Jonas:** Jesus Christ

 **Jonas:** I’m just gonna tell them youre in the bathroom

 **Magnus** **:** LET ME SAY TWINK

He snorts a little, because Jonas wasn’t lying, and when he checks the time and sees that it’s two in the morning, he figures nobody will be up, so he types with his free hand, and he panics, just a little, when he gets a response immediately.

**02:09**

**Isak:** i’m not a fucking twink

 **Jonas:** WHERE ARE YOU

 **Isak:**...in the bathroom

 **Jonas:** What

 **Magnus:** twink

 **Magnus:** also What

 **Mahdi:** What

 **Isak:** I said what I said

 **Jonas:** Don’t be a dick just tell me where you are

 **Isak:** no I’m deadass on the bathroom floor

 **Jonas:** Bro.

 **Magnus:** i changed your contact name to twink so its official

 **Jonas:** I’m on my way

 **Isak:** NO

 **Isak:** JPNAS DONT COEM IN HERE

 **Mahdi:** literally what the FUCK is going on

The door cracks open and hits Isak’s foot, unable to swing wider, and Jonas’s face pokes through the crack, blank with shock and twisted with confusion. He opens his mouth to ask something, staring at Isak’s face that’s lit up from the glow still emitting from his phone.

Isak mouths _no_ , shaking his head. He gestures to his phone as best he can with one arm still wrapped around Even.

**02:13**

**Jonas:** Isak who the fuck is this

 **Isak:** hes sleepign

 **Magnus:** WHAT

 **Mahdi:**???

 **Jonas:** Why?? Is he on top of you

 **Magnus:** HKSJDFSK

 **Isak:** he was cold

 **Isak:** leave asshole im finw

 **Isak:** ill be back in the morning

 **Isak:** maybe


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> featuring clingy gay ass bitches, the balloon squad, and a lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fix for my chix (gina)

Isak wakes up with a bleary-eyed boy smiling up at him and he thinks for a second that he’s died and gone to heaven.

Which would suck ass, actually, because that would mean that heaven was the men’s bathroom at a campground, but whatever.

“Morning,” Even says, voice raspy and Isak pretends like he isn’t affected by that. “Sleep well?”

Even peels himself off of Isak, so Isak, naturally, takes the opportunity to stretch, arching his back against the wall. He  _ might  _ let out an obscene noise.  _ Might _ . Just to watch how Even reacts. 

Even _ might _ raise his eyebrows and  _ might  _ let his mouth fall open a little bit.

Isak  _ might  _ enjoy that.

“There is no way that anyone could sleep well in these circumstances,” he says drily.

“Narcoleptics,” Even says. He’s matter-of-fact, running his hand through his hair in such a way that his sweatshirt rides up, exposing the edge of his hip and now it’s Isak’s turn to gape.

“What?”

Even just blinks at him. “I bet someone with narcolepsy could have a  _ great  _ sleep in these circumstances.”

“You’re an expert in narcolepsy?” Isak teases, raising one eyebrow at Even, who nods enthusiastically -- way too enthusiastically, Isak notes, for someone who slept for five hours on a floor last night.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m studying in school,” Even says as he stands.

“You -- what?” Isak asks again. He can’t tell if Even’s joking or not, again, and he narrows his eyes.

Even is entirely unfazed by Isak’s questions, leaning down to drink water out of the faucet. “Yeah,” he says. “I mean, technically it’s my concentration within my major, but yeah.”

Isak leans his head against the wall. He’s still barely awake enough to comprehend normal conversation, let alone the multiple layers of whatever Even speaks. “Say something about narcolepsy,” he commands.

“Psychologically, people with narcolepsy are more likely to be drug users, specifically users of cocaine, to the point that one in ten criminals that are convicted of cocaine-related crimes like possession and distribution are diagnosed with narcolepsy,” Even rattles off without changing his inflection under Isak’s studious gaze.

“You’re lying,” Isak decides. It’s the way that Even’s eyes scrunch up in the corners that gives him away.

Even laughs, again with his whole body lighting up the room and Isak didn’t think that it was possible, but Even’s laugh is even better in the daytime.

“What gave it away? Was it the statistic?” he asks, flopping back onto the floor beside Isak.

Isak rolls his eyes to disguise the smile that won’t stop stretching across his face. “Yeah, one in ten criminals is a little too frequent.”

Letting out a low whistle and leaning back on his elbows, Even shakes his head. “Damn,” he says, “I was  _ so  _ close to convincing you.”

Honestly, he was. He just doesn’t need to know that.

Isak snorts and looks away from Even, saying, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Aw,” Even coos beside him, “but you like me anyway.”

“We met last night,” Isak says drily. He doesn’t know how it’s possible, but Even keeps saying things that ring entirely too true with Isak. He does like Even. He likes the way Even’s cheeks squish up when he sleeps on Isak’s chest and he likes how Even flirts with him and he likes Even’s style and sense of humor and he likes that Even likes him and it’s been, like, eight full hours since they met but Isak already wants to stay in here forever. And not to be a clingy gay ass bitch or anything, but he thinks he’d be perfectly happy sleeping every night next to a toilet if he was with Even.

Even’s feigning hurt with his tongue clucking between his teeth. “I can’t believe you think so lowly of the night we spent together,” he says dramatically. “Isak, I would die for you. Right now.”

“Coming on a little strong,” Isak laughs. Even just grins and in that moment Isak knows he fucked up, because the light behind Even’s eyes says that Isak hasn’t even  _ seen  _ what coming on strong is.

“First of all, I’m going to refrain from making a sex joke, but I want you to know that I could have,” Even says, gesturing towards Isak with his pointer finger. “And second of all, get up. We’re going hiking and I’m going to save you from, like, a bear or some shit to prove that I would  _ die  _ for you.”

So Isak’s not the only clingy gay ass bitch.

“There is no fucking way I’m going hiking,” Isak informs the mess of a boy that’s in front of him.

Even’s standing and offering Isak his hand, and Isak rolls his eyes but takes it anyway. His fingers slide between Even’s and he can feel the callouses from Even’s guitar and it just feels like this is where he’s supposed to belong, which is ridiculous, right? That’s ridiculous. Even hoists him up and he stumbles a bit, but Even’s other arm catches him and then Even is  _ holding  _ him and laughing lightly in his ear. 

“Let me go,” Isak demands, and Even holds him tighter, pulling Isak back to his chest and tucking his chin into Isak’s shoulder.

“Not until you agree to go hiking with me today.”

Isak rolls his eyes, even though he  _ knows  _ Even can’t see. It’s an involuntary reaction at this point. “And why would I do that?”

“Because,” Even says, breath tracing along Isak’s ear and Isak suppresses a shiver, “I’ll fight a bear and then kiss you on a rock overlooking a river or some shit.”

_ Oh _ . Isak knows that they’ve been flirting, that they’ve spent the night cuddled up together, that there was obviously this underlying current of (what some may call) sexual tension beneath it all, but this is way more forward than he was expecting. He coughs.

“You could just turn on the faucet, pretend like it’s a river, and kiss me here,” Isak suggests. He’s half teasing and half, well, not. 

Even’s silent and still for a terrible moment and Isak considers that he might have fucked everything up. And then Even moves, still holding Isak to his chest, over to the sinks, reaching out one arm to turn it on. 

The water’s running and the sound of it fills up the little bathroom. Isak twists, encircled in Even’s arms, and Even’s grinning at him with his eyebrows tilted up, silently asking a question. Isak narrows his eyes. There’s still a part of him that feels like this is all a joke. It feels like if he kisses Even, Even’ll just pull away and look at him in confusion because this was all just him being flirty without any real substance. But there’s a larger part of Isak that just says  _ fuck it _ .

So, fuck it. 

Isak hooks one arm behind Even’s neck and kisses him, slow and gentle, and Even pauses for a second before he kisses Isak back and he  _ kisses Isak back _ . It’s the kind of kiss that travels down into Isak’s toes. Even brings his hands up to hold both of Isak’s cheeks between his hands and the entire thing is so incredibly good that Isak feels like his heart is swelling against his ribcage. 

“Even Bech Næsheim, I hate you,” a voice says plainly, and the door slams wide open against the wall. 

Even pulls away from Isak just enough that Isak can feel the way his lips twitch into a smile and he says, “Hey, Mikael.”

“Boys,” Mikael calls, poking his head out of the out of the door and sounding exasperated, “I found Even.”

There’s voices and footsteps and laughter but Isak can’t see any of it because Even doesn’t move away. He keeps their gazes locked, Even’s eyes burning into him until Even turns to the group of boys that just stumbled into the bathroom, half-awake and holding toothbrushes.

“Christ, Even,” a vaguely familiar voice says. “What are you -- oh. Uh, hey, Isak.”

Isak nods in response to Elias. He’s not really sure of the etiquette in this situation. What do you say when your good friend’s older brother walks into a bathroom to find you kissing a guy that happens to be one of his best friends? Is that, like, the time to properly introduce yourself? Isak doesn’t fucking know. He sticks with a nod to each of the boys as they file over to the sinks, jostling against each other and looking at him up and down, pushing back grins when they see Even’s fingertips resting on Isak’s hips.

“Are you coming swimming with us?” one of them asks, nodding his head over to Even.

Even shrugs and shoots a nervous glance in Isak’s direction. He smiles a little bit at the idea that Even is nervous to ask him, and he tucks his lips in. “Wanna go swimming?” Even asks quietly. He’s giving Isak the option to say no.

“Isn’t it a little cold for swimming?” Isak questions back, crinkling up his nose.

“That’s the point,” Elias says from the sinks. “Polar plunge for Youtube.”

Isak lets himself lean into Even for a second. “Yeah,” he answers slowly, “sure.” 

He can tell that Even’s trying not to smile too wide, trying not to look too excited, but his eyes are betraying him. His eyes are his tell, Isak realises, and he grins.

“I’ll have to grab a towel from my tent,” Isak tells Even, and Even nods  _ way _ too fast. Yousef covers up a laugh at Even’s expense.

“We can go grab it now and then meet you guys for breakfast?” Even offers.

Elias shrugs and Mikael smirks with a toothbrush sticking sideways from his mouth, and Isak pretends not to notice as Even flicks him off over his shoulder with one hand as he places the other on Isak’s lower back to guide him out of the bathroom. Isak can feel him take a breath once they’re outside, his fingers dusting along Isak’s sweatshirt.

“I like your friends,” Isak says, and he tries not to lean back into Even’s touch. He’s touch hungry, not touch starved, okay.

Even huffs out a laugh. “Good,” he says, “because I hate them sometimes. Am I going to get to meet yours?”

He’s changing the subject and Isak feels a little bit of distrust rise in the back of his mind, but he pushes it away. “Jonas should still be asleep,” he answers carefully. He feels like it’d be a little weird to tell Even that Jonas already saw him when he was sleeping. Very weird, actually. He’ll pretend like that didn’t happen.

Even bumps their shoulders together gently. “Where are you guys camping?”

“Just up the hill,” Isak says, and then they’re walking up, feet slipping on the dew in the grass and Even’s swearing, clutching onto Isak’s sleeve as he tries not to fall. And Isak’s starting to think that Even’s just the kind of person that makes everything good, makes it fun to walk up a hill and makes it fun to kiss in a bathroom and would probably make everything so much better, school and eating french fries and going to the grocery store and Isak really fucking likes this guy. 

Jonas’s moms are gone, having made plans to hike and watch the sunrise together, and when Isak goes into his and Jonas’s tent, there’s a lump huddled under blankets, a mess of hair sticking up and yeah, that’s his best friend. Isak steps over him gently, glancing back to where Even’s waiting by the opening and stifling his laughter. As quietly as possible, Isak unzips his backpack and pulls out the towel he brought for showers. Jonas snuffles into his pillow a little but doesn’t move. Isak lets out a relieved breath and lets his backpack lean back against the side of the tent.

He’s on his way out when he fucks up.

Isak goes to step over Jonas when Jonas rolls, flinging out his arm and Isak trips on him, falling, falling, falling, and then landing sloppily on top of Jonas, who lets out a yell as he wakes up to Isak’s elbow in his stomach.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Isak?”

“I’m just getting--”

“Get the fuck off of me, I swear to--”

“Chill, man, I’m--”

“I was  _ sleeping _ , Isak!”

“I said I was--”

“But you’re still fucking on top of me, get--”

“Fucking Christ, okay, fine, look--”

He pushes himself off of Jonas’s chest with two hands and Jonas lets out a strangled sound as Isak’s weight leaves him. An afterthought, Isak toes him in the ribs. Jonas glares.

“Pipe down,” Isak shoots at him, “you’re not actually mad.”

Which, he realises about half a second later, was not the right thing to say, because Jonas looks past Isak and says, “Isn’t that the guy that was sleeping on you last night?” and he knows  _ exactly  _ what he’s doing.

Isak grits his teeth and looks back at Even, who’s a little confused and a little amused. “Even, Jonas. Jonas, Even. We’re leaving now.”

“Bye, Issy,” Jonas calls as Isak leaves, and Isak can’t help but blush and roll his eyes at the fact that Jonas is using that dumb fucking nickname in front of Even. On purpose, of course, because he wants to ruin Isak’s entire life. “Hope you get elbowed in the fucking gut.”

“You can  _ choke _ ,” Isak throws over his shoulder, clambering to leave and pushing at Even, who’s still laughing, to get him to start walking.

“Love you too!” Jonas shouts.

They walk a little further, as fast they can with Even leading the way to wherever the fuck they’re going, and then Even says, “So. That was Jonas?”

“That was Jonas,” Isak confirms.

“And he knew we slept together how? Not  _ slept together  _ slept together,” Even adds quickly, stumbling over his words. “Just that, you know, we were sleeping and you were there and I was there and we were together, so, you know. Sleeping. Together.”

Isak thinks that Even being flustered is one of the best things he’s ever seen in his entire life. Also, he kind of counts it as payback for the whole mess that was Even meeting Jonas.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says, amused, glancing over at Even.

“Okay. Good. Just checking.” He runs his hands through his hair. “The, uh, lake thing is just around these trees.”

They emerge from the trees to find Even’s friends all huddled around, arguing about something. 

“Oh, shit,” Even says under his breath, and when they get closer, Isak can hear them.

Elias has a camera in his hand and he’s waving his arms around, gesturing to Mikael, who’s shaking his head firmly. 

“One of you is getting in the fucking lake,” Elias says. There’s a threat in his voice and suddenly Isak can see  _ exactly _ how related he and Sana are. “Mutta? You owe me for that thing.”

“Not comparable,” Mutta argues quickly. 

“Why don’t  _ you  _ get in the lake?” Yousef suggests.

Elias sputters for a second. “I’m the director,” he says eventually. “I don’t have to do anything.”

None of them look convinced by that answer. 

“Even!” Elias says enthusiastically when he sees the two of them standing there, watching in amusement. “Even’ll get in the lake, won’t you?” He’s pleading, which is something that Sana would  _ never  _ do. 

“I mean…” Even drawls. He’s considering it and Elias sweetens the offer.

“You just have to run in there and run out. You can keep all your clothes on and I’ll pay for food next time we go out.”

Isak thinks for a second. Christ, he’s going to regret this, but he says it anyways. “I’ll do it with you.”

“You will?” Even and Elias both ask at the same time, turning to him in surprise. He shrugs. 

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Look, I got my towel and everything.”

Elias looks like someone just told him he won the lottery. “Alright! Isak and Even are going into the lake! You ready?”

Even shoots a glance over to Isak. “I’m ready if you are?”

“Hold the fuck up and let me take off my shoes,” Isak says, already slipping them off and reaching down to peel off his socks. Even follows his lead and then stands up, bouncing on his heels. 

“I’m going to take off my sweatshirt too,” Even says decidedly. Mikael lets out a low whistle as Even pulls his sweatshirt and shirt over his head. With the fabric covering his eyes, Even says, “Shut up, Mik.”

Isak directs his eyes back to the ground, wiggling his toes as he pulls off his own shirts and tossing them over by his shoes. Dragging his eyes from Even’s shivering chest is not necessarily the easiest thing in the world, but he does it anyways, and Even crooks an eyebrow at him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Elias calls, angling the camera at them. 

Even offers Isak his hand for the second time that morning. Isak takes it, and, for the second time, he’s struck by how well Even’s fingers feel between his own, warm and grounding.

“On three?” he asks Even, and Even nods excitedly, biting at his lip. “One,” Isak counts, gripping Even’s hand tighter. “Two. Three.”

The two of them take off running, Even lifting their joined hands as their feet hit the water and they keep going. Someone’s screaming and Isak belatedly realises that it’s him. Isak slows as they go deeper into the water, but Even doesn’t, still stumbling full speed and laughing breathlessly and Isak thinks that he needs to  _ slow down _ , or otherwise he’s going to --

Even falls, pulling Isak down with him. 

It is, quite possibly, the coldest thing that Isak has ever felt in his entire life. Even is squealing and grabbing onto Isak and they’re tangled together, hands dead cold and lips blue, and Isak’s the first scramble back to his feet. He hoists Even up and Even kisses him, in the water, shirtless and shivering and it brings the heat back into Isak’s chest. He barely hears the boys whooping and calling from the shoreline, barely feels the way Even’s hair feels between his numb fingers.

They run back still holding hands, breathless from laughter and cold. Mikael and Adam both spread their arms out with towels between them to wrap Isak and Even up, and suddenly Isak’s falling into Mikael, who wraps the towel and two warm arms around Isak, rubbing his shoulders as he shakes.

“I can’t believe you thought that would be a good time for a kiss,” Isak complains to Even with a sideways smile. 

Even laughs in response. “If we’re going to get hypothermia, might as well have a good time doing it,” he reasons, and Isak rolls his eyes. 

“That was great!” Elias nearly yells, bouncing into Yousef, who’s decidedly unimpressed and wraps his arm around Elias, more to contain him than anything. “I can upload that, right?” he asks, looking at Isak.

Isak shrugs. “I mean, yeah. That’s chill.” 

“Nice.”

Mikael lets go of Isak since he’s stopped shivering. “We should make a fire so you guys don’t, like, die,” he says.

Everyone else murmurs in agreement and starts walking while Isak and Even struggle back into their clothes, shirts sticking to what moisture is still left on their skin. 

“Fuck, my hands are cold,” Isak says, banging them against his wet jeans.

“I’ll keep them warm,” Even offers. He attempts a wink, but it just ends up being one of his eyes all squished up while he tilts his head back and Isak can’t help but laugh at him, giving Even his hand anyways. Even tucks both their hands inside his sweatshirt pocket and they follow the boys back to camp.

“When are you leaving?” Even asks quietly at one point, both of them dragging their feet behind the rest of the group.

Isak blows a breath out of his nose. “Tomorrow morning,” he admits. 

Even’s quiet. “Not to sound clingy or anything...” he starts.

“You said you would die for me after knowing me for eight hours,” Isak says.

“Fuck. True. Can I have your number?”

“You can.” Isak bites at the inside of his cheek to hide how wide he’s smiling. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Even, letting his fingerprint unlock it. “Just send yourself a text.”

“Okay,” Even says, shooting him a grin. He glances down at the phone and freezes before letting out a choked laugh.

“What?” Isak demands. He’s suddenly realising that he  _ maybe  _ should have checked to make sure there wasn’t anything embarrassing before he just straight up gave his phone to a hot boy.

“You, uh, have messages from a groupchat called hashtag let Magnus say twink 2k17?” Even explains through his laughter.

“Jesus  _ fuck _ ,” Isak says. 

“And the most recent one in the little preview,” Even continues as Isak stands there in horror, “says, in all caps, ‘get some bathroom dick.’”

Isak is going to murder Magnus with his own two hands as  _ soon  _ as they get home.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the fluffiest shit ive ever written ohymofhd
> 
> hmu!!! on [tumblr](https://lesbovilde.tumblr.com/) i lov u all


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> featuring feelings, guys being dudes, and weed

There’s this weird thing happening to Isak. He guesses it’s less of a thing and more of a  _ feeling _ , but he still doesn’t have a name for it. How can he describe that particular way his heart thuds and his stomach warms as he throws his legs over Even’s and runs his thumb over Even’s knuckles, warming up under that dumb fucking dinosaur sleeping bag? The fire that Adam made warms his toes and Even’s arm around his shoulders warms his body. He’s sleepy but not exhausted, woken up by the cold that seeped into his bones. All the boys are laughing, joking and swapping old stories and jabs at each other in the kind of easy familiarity that only comes with years and years of knowing each other, something Isak’s experienced with Jonas but not quite with Magnus and Madhi, so he sits back into Even and laughs as Elias sprouts stories of how Mikael spent an entire summer trying to teach himself how to backflip with Even and Yousef spotting, except Even and Yousef kept getting distracted and by the time September rolled around, all Mikael had for his efforts was the aftereffects of three mild concussions and a sprained elbow.

There’s no words for the way it feels. Comfort is close. Kose is close. Safety is close. He supposes that maybe it’s a combination of all of them, all of his favorite feelings combined into this one example, in the midst of these boys that treat each other like family, in the arms of a boy that treats him like something worth loving. He wrinkles his nose at himself. For all he knows, Even is, like, a serial killer, or worse, in a committed relationship. He doesn’t think Even’s friends would condone cheating, though. They seem like nice enough guys. Or, fuck, maybe he knows nothing and it’s all a plot or a bet or something.

“Do you want hot chocolate?” Even murmurs into Isak’s hair, snapping him out of his thoughts. Fuck it, Isak decides. If this is a one-time-found-a-hot-boy-in-the-woods kind of thing, then he’ll enjoy it while it lasts. 

“Sure.” 

He feels Even shift under him and suddenly realises that Even meant that he’d go  _ get  _ Isak hot chocolate, which, like, is sweet and all, but in his cold and sleepy state, Isak would honestly rather Even stay with him. He lets out a groan and burrows his head into Even to get him to stay, cosy in the sleeping bag.

Even laughs, low in his chest. Isak tightens his hand around Even’s.

“Isak,” Even says, sounding amused, “I have to get your hot chocolate.”

“No, you don’t. I don’t even want it that much,” Isak finds himself saying. Even either sighs or huffs out a laugh, or maybe a little of both.

“Mikael, can you get us two hot chocolates?” Even asks, putting a plea in his voice, and Mikael raises his head from his place on Adam’s shoulder. 

“Did you lose function of your legs in the lake?” Mikael shoots back drily. 

“You’ll lose function of yours if you don’t stop screaming in my ear,” Adam mumbles. Mikael placates him with a pat on the shoulder. 

Even bumps his lips against Isak’s temple. “Sorry about my friends,” he says. “I did warn you that they’re idiots, though.”

“I like them,” Isak tells Even, because he does. He kind of loves them, actually. “And you already saw me and Jonas in our natural habitat, so, there’s that.”

He can feel Even’s chest shake with laughter beneath him and the knowledge that he was the one to make Even laugh causes him to grin, biting at the inside of his bottom lip.

“You should invite Jonas to hang out with us,” Even suggests.

Isak hums in consideration. “Would that be okay?” he asks carefully. 

“Of course.”

A little bit of worry still nags at Isak, something that tells him that Even’s just being polite and he doesn’t even want Isak there, much less Jonas, but he quiets it as best he can and texts Jonas outside of the group message.

**10:16**

**Isak:** Hello are you recovered from earlier yet

**Jonas:** fuck you

**Isak:** Even’s friends are making breakfast

**Isak:** if you want to come join

**Jonas:** What kind of breakfast

**Isak:** I don’t fucking know bitch we’re camping it’s shit

**Jonas:** Damn bro chill

**Isak:** Are you coming or not

**Jonas:** sure

**Jonas:** Would this be a good time to bring out the weed I brought

**Isak:** It isn’t even noon

**Jonas:** Wake and bake pussy

**Isak:** don’t be fucking rude

**Isak:** I’ll ask hold on

He’s pretty sure that Even’s been not-so-subtly reading the messages over his shoulder, but he asks anyways, tilting up his head to look into Even’s eyes. 

“Jonas wants to know if he should bring weed,” he says, and Even’s nodding before he even gets the sentence out. Isak laughs because Even just looks so  _ enthusiastic _ .

**10:23**

**Isak:** yeah bust it out

**Jonas:** Sick

**Jonas:** Where are you

**Isak:** theres like a hill

**Isak:** And some trees

**Isak:** Rocks

**Jonas:** You useless. Fucking. Twink.

Even taps his fingers against Isak’s hand to get his attention.

“We can go get Jonas and bring him back here if he doesn’t know where it is,” Even suggests, smile showing his teeth as he does so, and Isak returns his grin with a nod.

**Isak:** Even and I are coming

**Jonas:** wow tmi

**Isak:** TO GET YOU. WE’RE COMING TO GET YOU.

**Jonas:** surejan.gif

Untangling himself from Even is possibly hell. First of all, because he’s so comfortable here curled into Even and he doesn’t want to leave, and second of all, because he’s somehow become trapped in the dinosaur sleeping bag and Even laughs while Isak stumbles to his feet, kicking his feet until the sleeping bag flies free. Isak offers a hand to Even to help him up and Even takes it. Their fingers lace together and Isak leans back to tug on Even, who stands in a fluid motion and uses his momentum to pull Isak close and kiss him, soft and gentle and surprisingly familiar.

Isak almost forgets that they have an audience.

“Look how cute they are,” Mikael says fondly.

“They’ve known each other for, like, twelve hours,” Yousef points out.

Elias scoffs. “You know Even, though,” he says.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t proposed already,” Mikael adds, and Even pulls away to glare at them.

“Let me live,” he complains. Isak hides a laugh at his expense, and Even uses the hand he’s already holding to pull Isak away from the boys, towards the trees and through the other side.

They’re at the top of a hill and Isak suddenly sees their campsite, sees a tiny version of Jonas walking out of the tent and stretching.

“Look,” he says, unable to hold back his grin, “there’s Jonas. And his moms.” He shifts a little. Jonas’s moms are pretty damn close to his own parents at this point and he’s not sure that Even should be meeting them a whole twelve hours into their relationship. 

But Even must sense his nervousness, because he bumps his shoulder against Isak’s and says, “Race you to the campsite?”

Isak takes a second to pretend like he’s thinking. He releases Even’s hand casually, acting like he’s running his hand over the back of his neck while he prepares himself, rolling his shoulders and relaxing his lungs and eyeing the distance and then before Even can ask him again, he’s gone, legs pumping and he’s running down the hill because Isak Valtersen might be a mess, but he always wins.

“You  _ fucker _ ,” Even sputters behind him. Isak doesn’t let himself look back, but Even sounds like he’s stumbling, tripping over himself as he careens down the hill.

Isak wins. Obviously.

He turns to see Even crash into him with both arms open, wrapping him up in a momentous hug and Isak shouts as he tips sideways with the impact, Even holding him up.

“I can’t believe you cheated,” Even complains, dramatic as ever. Isak crooks an eyebrow.

“You think there are rules here?”

“What are you, a fucking anarchist?” Even asks. “Of course there are rules.”

Isak opens his mouth to respond, wrestling against Even’s arms, but one of Jonas’s moms emerges from her tent and looks at the two of them with both eyebrows raised. 

“Morning, Ana,” Isak chokes out behind a blush. She smirks at him. Even still hasn’t let him go.

“Morning, love,” she says calmly, because as much as Isak likes to pretend like Ana and Maria are his moms too, they’re not, and Ana just smiles and winks when she sees a boy holding him.

“How, uh, how was the hike?” Isak asks. Even lifts his chin from its place on Isak’s shoulder and Isak can feel the motion of his smile as he does so.

“Hi,” Even says cheerily, “I’m Isak’s friend. Even.”

Isak elbows him in the stomach and Ana looks like she’s about to burst out into laughter at any given moment. “Hi, Even,” she says. “The hike was gorgeous. Are you boys taking Jonas with you?”

“Yeah, uh, is he around here?” Isak asks, even though he knows the answer full well. Jonas is probably in the tent wrapping their weed supply in six t-shirts and a beanie.

“I’m here,” Jonas says, hurrying out of the tent and slinging a backpack over his shoulder. Isak has no doubt that he was spot on with his predictions of Jonas’s previous actions, probably even down to the number of shirts. “Let’s go.”

Frowning, Ana looks him up and down, from his bed head to his flannel to his dirty shoes, and she sighs. Isak always found it funny that Ana and Maria are so put together and Jonas is… not. “Don’t get lost,” she says tiredly. It’s what she used to say every single time Jonas and Isak sped away on their bikes. 

“Will do,” Jonas answers, shooting her a grin. Even untangles himself from Isak and then the three of them are off, slipping up the hill back towards Even’s campsite.

“Can I ask why your hair’s wet?” Jonas asks after a little bit, his voice twinged with amusement and apprehension, like he know’s Isak’s going to say something dumb.

Isak’s wedged between Even and Jonas as they walk, bumping into each other gently. “Look,” Isak starts, “first of all, blame Even and Elias.”

“Elias?” Jonas says, scrunching up his face. “Like… Sana’s Elias?”

Even snorts. “That’s not how Elias would think of it, but yeah.” 

“We ran into the lake,” Isak admits to Jonas. “For Elias’s YouTube video.”

“I can’t wait until you die,” Jonas deadpans, and Isak immediately shoves him, resulting in the two of them bickering and fighting the rest of the short distance into the campsite. 

“Boys,” Even says, raising his voice to be heard over the mess that is Jonas hissing  _ useless twink  _ and Isak whispering  _ fucking stoner _ and all of Even’s friends passing food around and chatting about whatever. “This is Jonas.”

A chorus of greetings rises around them and Jonas stops bullying Isak long enough to be introduced around the circle and offered breakfast along with some weak coffee that Isak takes gratefully.

“I thought you wanted hot chocolate?” Even asks, furrowing his brows as he watches Isak tilt his head back and down a second mug of coffee.

Isak shakes his head and grimaces at the watery taste. “Caffeine,” he says simply. Even nods in understanding.

They chill as a group for a while. Isak ends up sitting beside Jonas on a log and Even ends up sitting on the ground and leaning between Isak’s legs, watching Mikael try to juggles while Elias films and Mutta beat-boxes and Adam claps and Yousef looks done with them all. At one point, Jonas swings his backpack into Isak’s lap and nods for him to open it up.  _ Fuck _ , Isak thinks as soon as he sees that Jonas only used four shirts. He was right about the beanie, at least. He lets Jonas pack the bowl and take the first hit. This bowl is Jonas’s pride and joy, custom, and he swears that it makes the high better. Isak can’t tell a difference and although he’d never tell Jonas, the truth is that he doesn’t give a shit.

The three of them are the only ones smoking. Mikael takes a hit or two but nothing more, doesn’t get high like Isak and Jonas do, and Even just has enough to make him run his fingers up and down Isak’s arm forever. Isak shivers under his touch.

Time is weird and Isak doesn’t even notice that it’s passing until he sees the sun setting below the trees and realises that Even’s been playing guitar while Mikael sings along, old love songs and just messing around and Jonas hums to the tune. The sun sets early, so he’s not  _ too  _ concerned. He watches Yousef tend to the fire. Everything is lit golden with the sun and the flames and the way his hair is falling into his face and it almost seems like a dream with his hands tangled in Even’s hair and the music all around them and Even’s fingers fumble and everyone laughs, gently, and Even waves them off.

Isak’s feeling that feeling again. 

Jonas leans against him and Isak leans back and lets his eyes close. There’s something immensely comforting about the way that his senses are dulled, something isolating and calming and he wishes that his entire life felt like this, felt like being high and warm and surrounded by good people in the woods. He could probably do without the woods part, actually. He still fucking hates camping.

And that brings up questions that he’s been avoiding asking because he doesn’t have the answers, the main one being  _ what happens now _ ? Where does he sleep tonight? Because he’s not sleeping on a bathroom floor but he wants to spend time with Even but he doesn’t want Even to have to spend time with him, so what now? And he has Even’s number, but they’re leaving in the morning and what then? Are he and Even friends? Are they going to be more than that? What’s he going to do if he fucking runs into Even at Elias and Sana’s house or something? Fuck, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know shit. 

So he doesn’t try to know. He breathes slow and focuses on the feeling. He thinks about the way Even’s hair feels as it threads through his fingers and he thinks about how he can feel the vibrations of Jonas humming beside him and the boys across from him are golden, teeth flashing and reflecting light, and he finds himself almost entirely present in this moment.

It’ll be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is lowkey a filler chapter and i hate it! that's fine! woohoo!


	4. iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> featuring scary stories, cuddling, and saying goodbye

There’s a cold snap that night. Isak convinces Even to get into Isak’s sleeping bag, bigger and warmer, and so he tucks his knees up under Even’s and nestles his nose into the back of Even’s neck, right where his hair starts to curl. The boys have given up on cramming everyone into a tent, opting instead to sprawl out by the dying campfire. Whatever. It’s not supposed to rain. 

Jonas and Mikael are talking quietly over on one side. Adam and Mutta, the only ones who attempted to get into the tent, ended up arguing until Mutta left in a huff to join Elias and Yousef, both on the ground with their heads pointed to the remains of the fire.

“Boys,” Mikael declares, turning away from Jonas to address the whole group. His eyes flash and Isak can’t tell if it’s devious or just the embers reflecting. “Let’s tell ghost stories.”

“Fuck yes,” Elias exclaims. He scrambles for his camera and Yousef groans. “This’ll be great content,” Elias tells Yousef in an attempt to defend himself.

“Everyone circle around the fire, like Yousef and Elias.” Mikael points to spots around the circle. The motion makes Isak realise that yeah, Mikael’s going to be a great director some day.

Even turns to Isak as best he can in the sleeping bag and raises an eyebrow, obviously asking him a question again. Isak grins, brushing his nose against Even’s, just because he can’t resist the way Even looks so patient and curious.

“I love ghost stories,” Isak says. Even breaks into a smile. They shift, together, sitting up to move closer into the circle with everyone else. Adam drags his blanket from the tent and huddles beside them, between Isak and Jonas. 

Setting up the camera, Elias takes charge, glancing around the group. “Okay,” he says, “who’s got a ghost story?”

Isak can see the way Jonas shifts on the other side of Adam and he  _ knows _ , just knows that Jonas is about to tell that one fucking story -

“I do,” Jonas says quietly. The fucker’s already getting in the mood. He takes the flashlight from Mikael and holds it under his chin, and it should be cheesy as shit, but knowing the story he’s about to tell, Isak fights back a shiver. 

“Okay. This is something that happened to Isak and I, when we were around fourteen, I think,” Jonas says, looking over to Isak for confirmation. This is all part of the act. He knows damn well that it happened on the twenty-seventh of July when Isak was fourteen and Jonas was thirteen. Isak shrugs, playing along.

“We wanted to go skateboarding in this abandoned house. My moms didn’t want us to go, though, because there were reports of something killing all the small animals around that area. We were fucking rebellious kids, though, so we went anyways.”

Jonas pauses, glancing around the circle for dramatic impact.

“The smell should have been our first clue.”

Elias looks like he’s about to fall over, his face pale and mouth hanging open.

“It was like a mix of something dead and cleaning solution, like bleach, and I thought it was weird but Isak convinced me to go in anyways. This is a side note, but if Isak tells you to do something, don’t fucking do it.”

Laughter ripples its way around the circle, nervously from Elias and Adam, smoothly from Yousef, Mikael, and Mutta, and Even’s right in Isak’s ear, the vibrations in his chest against Isak’s arm.

“So,” Jonas says, leaning forward with the flashlight still under his chin, “we went inside. It was an old motel, with lots of rooms and doors and they were all swung wide open except one. Isak, being the dumb fuck that he is, went right for that one. It didn’t open. Isak handed me his board and backed up so he could hit it with his shoulder, over and over, until finally, the door burst open. The smell was overwhelming. We decided that it was probably just an animal or something, and we went inside. That’s when we saw it.”

Jonas pauses, dramatically, and everyone waits with baited breath for him to continue. Isak closes his eyes for the next part. He can still picture the room exactly as Jonas describes it.

“There was a lamp on the floor right in front of the door, cracked and covered with a splatter of what looked like dried blood. The room was torn apart, sheets strewn all over, furniture thrown sideways, a hole punched in the wall, and Isak said, ‘What the fuck?’ and then the knocking started.”

He hits his knuckles against the log beside him in rhythm. “Knock. Knock. Knock. It was coming from the closet beside the bed, too precise to be anything  _ but _ a person, and I swear on my life, I’ve never run faster. We went home and pretended like nothing happened, but a few weeks later, the abandoned motel burned down and there were human remains found in one of the rooms.”

Dead silence. The boys all look at each other with wide eyes. Even clutches at Isak’s shirt and Mikael moves closer to Jonas almost imperceptibly, but it’s Elias who’s affected the most, running his hands over his head and repeating, “Nah. Nope. No. Nah. No way.”

Yousef goes to wrap an arm around him but Elias throws him off. “That shit,” he says, pointing a finger at Jonas, “was not okay. That’s fucked up.”

“Google it,” Jonas shrugs. “I bet there’s information on the fire.”

“I will  _ not  _ be doing that,” Elias fires back fiercely. He lets Yousef rest his hand on his shoulder.

Even nestles closer into Isak and asks, “Was that true?”

“Yeah,” Isak whispers back. “It was fucking terrifying.”

Jonas looks way too proud of himself for scaring everyone.

“That was great footage,” Mikael says, and Elias’s head snaps around.

“Fuck, I forgot we were filming!”

Yousef gets Elias calmed down enough to go to sleep eventually and soon the campsite is filled with the sounds of six sleeping boys, because Isak and Even are still awake.

“Did the story scare you that badly?” Isak jokes when Even pulls him closer for the seventh time so far.

Even breathes slow into his neck. “No,” he says, “I just like being close to you.”

“Oh.”

It’s been a long time since Isak’s felt wanted like this, and he has to admit that it feels amazing. He tucks his nose under the sleeping bag and lets himself drift off warm and comfortable, enveloped in Even’s arms and he feels like he’s part of something bigger than himself.

_________________________________

Isak wakes up to Even’s arm flung over his face and the two of them tangled together after trying to stretch out in their sleep. He learns, in those next few moments, that Even is a  _ heavy  _ sleeper, and he struggles to free himself. When he finally gets out of the sleeping bag, breathing heavily with the exertion and contortion that it took, Mikael, Jonas, and Yousef are already up and sipping coffee by the fire, staring at him in amusement.

“Morning,” Mikael offers.

Isak doesn’t answer. He’s not a morning person and he never will be.

“We’re leaving in an hour,” Jonas tells him, tugging his beanie over his hair. Isak just nods in response.

He hears Even shuffling around in the sleeping bag behind him and turns to check on him.

“Isak,” Even calls with his eyes still closed.

“Yeah?”

Even pulls the sleeping bag up further so that it covers his ears and then whines, “Why am I cold?”

Isak hides a smile at that, grabbing two cups of coffee that are already a little cold and bringing them back to the sleeping bag, ignoring the way that the rest of the boys that are awake are laughing. He offers one to Even, but Even gently pushes it away.

“Messes with my brain,” he says by way of explanation, and Isak doesn’t really understand, but he gets back in with Even.

They lay in quiet for a few moments. The backtrack of everyone else waking up and getting coffee and joking around seems to be quieter than it should be, like all of Isak’s senses are focused on Even. It’s a good moment and he’s feeling that  _ thing _ again.

At least, he is until he breaks it.

“We’re leaving in an hour,” he says quietly.

Even is silent and Isak can almost hear him thinking. “Okay,” he says. 

“And then we’ll go back to Oslo.”

“You will.”

Isak is pushing but Even’s not giving him anything. Part of him is desperate to ask what will happen, if Even will text him, what they are and what they will be.

He settles for asking, a little desperately, “When do you guys head back?”

“Two days,” Even answers as he brushes his lips against the back of Isak’s neck. “And then we’ll be back in Oslo.”

“You will.”

They’re both quiet again until Jonas strolls over and kicks gently at Isak’s head. “Yo,” he says, “moms want us to help pack up like ten minutes ago, so we need to jet.” He sounds almost apologetic.

Even walks Isak to the edge of the campsite, holding his hand and they’re at the top of that hill again, looking down on Jonas’s moms bustling around.

“So,” Even says, chewing at the inside of his bottom lip.

“So,” Isak repeats. He glances down at their joined hands and then Even kisses him, heady and hard and full of want and need and promises and fears and in this moment, Isak understands that Even is just as scared as he is. He can feel it in the way Even presses his fingertips into his shoulder blades, like he’s trying to bring Isak closer, and when he pulls away, he hesitates for a moment before whispering, “Bye, Isak.”

Isak smiles. “Bye, Even.”

And then he’s following Jonas down the hill, like something out of a dream, feeling like he’s just floating along and it’s cheesy and disgusting but he feels like he left a part of himself with Even, left a part of himself waiting back at the campsite, back at the top of the hill, back in the bathroom on the floor in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short update im sorryyyyy but i have some old shit that im making into new shit in the works so my time is going to that whooooooo


	5. v

Isak spends the next two days in a trance. He waits for Even to text him, maybe once or twice a day, some photo of trees with song lyrics and he looks up every single song and listens to it on repeat until the next one comes in. 

It’s a weird state of mind. 

He finds himself constantly second-guessing everything he does, every text he types, chewing at his bottom lip and staring at the screen until he closes his eyes and hits send and throws his phone face down on his bed with his heart still pounding. He constantly switches back and forth in his head between  _ he likes me  _ and  _ he likes me not  _ like he’s a fucking schoolgirl in the 1940s. Okay. 

So he’s awake at three in the morning, tossing and turning and wondering what Even’s doing right now. Probably sleeping, like a normal person. A normal person who’s not creepily over-invested in another person. It seems like he’s been having fun without Isak, sending pictures of Mikael hanging upside down from a tree with his shirt over his face and putting exclamation marks at the end of his sentences. Isak wants to scream. He needs  _ answers _ , damn it. He hates this weird in-between stage, this uncertainty about what Even’s intentions are and what Even’s thinking and he either wants to pry Even’s head open and look inside or pry his own open and take out all his dumbass bitchass gay ass thoughts. Jesus  _ fuck _ .

He thinks himself in circles until he falls asleep, fitfully.

Eskild wakes him up entirely too early. His first thought is homicide and his second thought is just a constant stream of shrieking. 

“Isak,” Eskild hisses.

“What the  _ fuck _ , Eskild?”

“ _ Isak _ ,” Eskild says again, more insistently this time. “There’s someone here for you.”

He groans, pulling himself out of the bed and tugging on a pair of sweatpants, grumbling the whole time and Eskild is buzzing with energy around him. It’s probably Jonas; he’s supposed to bringing back the sweatshirt that somehow ended up packed in his backpack instead of Isak’s. Fuck Jonas for waking up so early.

He stumbles to the door, Eskild hovering over his shoulder, and throws it open wide, ready to bitch at Jonas.

It’s not Jonas.

It’s not Jonas at  _ all _ , actually, because Isak is shirtless and wearing stained sweatpants and barely awake and Even is standing sheepishly on the other side of the door with flowers clenched in his hand.

“Hey,” he says. It sounds like he’s kind of nervous and he raises an eyebrow at Isak.

“I… hey,” Isak answers. He sniffs. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, because he wants to kiss Even, wants to make him drop those flowers and wrap his arms around Isak’s neck instead but he doesn’t fucking know what they are and he doesn’t fucking know what he’s allowed to do. 

Even steps towards him, close enough that he can feel Even’s breath against his bottom lip and  _ fuck _ if that doesn’t make the decision for him, because he finds himself being pulled forward by some unknown force and they’re kissing. The cellophane on the flowers crinkles between them and Isak wonders, blissfully, what kind of lame asshole he is that he’s missed this even though it’s only been like two days.

“Oh my God,” Eskild whispers happily, and Isak pulls away to glare at him.

“I brought you flowers,” Even says, stating the obvious. “I didn’t know what kind you liked and I, uh, don’t know that much about flowers, but Yousef said roses so I was like, okay, and Mikael said you seem like a yellow rose kind of guy, so… yeah. A dozen yellow roses.”

Isak smiles the whole time Even’s rambling. “Fuck you,” he says with a grin that he can feel stretching across his face, “I love it.”

All the questions that have been turning over and over in his mind are fading away because to be completely fucking honest, he just wants Even. In whatever capacity that may be, under whatever labels, in every situation and every place and he has him, right here at his door cringing with lips red and fingers wrapped around flower stems and in that moment it’s simple. It’s right. 

“Invite him in, Isak!” Eskild exclaims from behind them.

Even follows Isak into the kitchen and the two of them sit at the table while Eskild busies himself looking for a jar for the flowers, obviously just eavesdropping on their conversation, but Isak can’t bring himself to say anything to him about it.

“We came back a little early,” Even’s telling him, blushing a little, his cheeks and the tips of his ears deliciously pink under Isak’s gaze. “Because the boys couldn’t put up with me whining about not seeing you for two days.”

“You could have texted me more,” Isak says, pouting for the Dramatic Effect.

Even shakes his head. “I was trying to restrain myself! Adam had me on a timer.”

At that, Isak can’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m not kidding,” Even insists. “They’d all see me looking at my phone and start yelling because I was only allowed to text you three times a day. But eventually they got tired and Elias texted Sana for your address and… yeah. Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Isak says. He smiles gently at Even, who still looks nervous. Eskild plops the roses down on the table with a dramatic gesture of his wrist, showing off the fact that they’re in Isak’s NASA coffee mug.

“I brought the flowers for a reason,” Even says after a pause. “I wanted to ask you on a real date.”

“Oh, so not cuddling in a dinosaur sleeping bag?” Isak teases.

“On a bathroom floor, no less.”

Eskild pauses in his work as he washes dishes. “Sorry, what?” 

They ignore him.

“Dinner and a movie,” Even promises, tapping his fingers on the table. “I’ll buy you all the popcorn you want.”

Isak wrinkles his nose. “Don’t like popcorn. It always gets stuck in my teeth.”

“Okay, so what do you want?” Even says, indulging Isak with a grin, and Isak returns it happily.

“Sour candy.”

And that’s the story of how Isak ends up waiting on the curb outside of the apartment while Even runs around the front of the car to open the door for him, a bag of sour Skittles waiting in the passenger seat.

“Don’t eat them all now,” Even warns. “I have plans for dinner.”

“Plans?” Isak asks, already ignoring Even and pulling open the bag.

“Yeah,” Even confirms, pulling away, “plans.”

____________________________________________

Even takes him to a restaurant and knocks on the closed door, twice, slow and dramatic. He crooks his eyebrow up at Isak’s confusion.

“Even, baby,” a woman says warmly, flinging open the door. She’s older, probably around the age of Isak’s parents, and wearing a pink hijab, wrapping Even in a one-armed hug. “Come in, come in.”

Even takes Isak’s hand and links their fingers together as they walk through the empty restaurant to a table that’s already set and covered with food.

“You must be Isak,” the woman says, smiling at him. “I didn’t know what you liked so I made everything.”

Even coughs to disguise a laugh and Isak looks at him quizzically, but he doesn’t offer any explanation.

They sit, Isak across from Even. Their knees almost touch beneath the table. Even digs in and starts filling his plate, saying, “The meatballs are incredible.”

Isak’s still too much in shock to eat. “Where… are we?”

“Mutta’s parents own a restaurant,” Even answers easily as he takes a bite. “And his mom makes the world’s best food, so load up.”

They eat without speaking and Isak, when he bites into that meatball, briefly reconsiders being an atheist.

“Jesus,” he moans eventually. Even raises his eyebrows. “Sorry,” Isak adds. “It’s really fucking good.”

Even doesn’t answer because his mouth is full but he grins and nods. The two of them eat like the teenage boys they are, piling food onto their plates and into their mouths until they can’t fit anymore and Isak slumps in his chair, pushing his plate away.

“I want to sleep,” he declares and Even mumbles in agreement.

“You can sleep during the movie,” Even suggests.

“Maybe,” Isak says, wrinkling his nose, “what are we seeing?”

Even tilts his head, throws money on the table, and stands, offering Isak his hand. “You’ll find out.”

Isak hesitates for a second because that’s cryptic and he suddenly remembers that Even could technically still be a serial killer or something, but he  _ trusts _ Even and he takes his hand and lets Even pull him to the car.

They drive and Isak takes control of the aux cord, bumping his favorite songs and he’s amazed when Even knows them all, rapping and singing and checking his blind spot.

The movie theater’s dark when they pull up. There’s nobody in the parking lot and Even parks right up near the front of the theater and knocks on the door, three times in succession.

Mikael throws open the door.

“Welcome,” he says dramatically with a sweeping gesture. Even links his hand through the crook of Isak’s elbow and lets Isak step into the theater.

It’s just them and Mikael, the theater dark and Mikael leads the two of them into one of the theaters.

“Are you going to kill me here?” Isak whispers, only half-joking.

Even laughs. “Only if you say something bad about the movie.”

Isak shrugs in response, not promising anything. Even picks the best seats in the theater — right in the center, knocking knees and elbows because they can’t fit in the seats. Mikael brings them popcorn and vanishes.

“You ready?” Even asks.

It’s the beginning of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back in this verse! just the epilogue next and then... complete!


	6. vi

“I hate that you’re making me do this,” Isak complains, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

Even just rolls his eyes. He’s used to Isak’s antics by now. Years of living together does that to a person.

“You know I’m not  _ making  _ you do anything,” he shoots back. He’s holding three bags in his arms, but he still asks, “Do you want me to take that?”

“Nah,” Isak answers, “I’m fine. You sure we have everything?”

And Even nods, but Isak’s asked him a hundred times and the answer’s always been yes and he always ends up forgetting something. Last time, Isak had to buy them both socks from a store for young girls. Even still wears his pair. They’re glittery and tiny and itchy.

“The kids are in the car?” Isak asks.

Even grins back at him over the bags. “Yeah,” he says, “all buckled in and everything.”

“Fuck. I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” Isak shakes his head. 

Walking to the door, Even shrugs his shoulder as best he can manage without dropping anything. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

Isak scoffs. “Have you ever known be to be anything  _ but  _ dramatic? Christ, Ev, it’s like you don’t even know your own husband.”

“Relax,” Even tells him, laughing at the glare Isak fixes him with. “It’s going to be great.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that. I get the feeling that you’re wrong.”

So yeah, Isak was right.

Even forgot Eli’s sleeping bag.

“She should have packed it herself!” Even argues, hushed whispers outside of the car so the kids don’t hear them. “Andre packed his.”

Arms crossed, Isak can’t help but glare at Even. “Andre is seven,” he points out. “Eli is five.”

Even sputters. “Why was it  _ my  _ job to pack sleeping bags?”

“Because I packed everything else!” Isak answers, throwing his arms in the air as he does so.

“Okay, okay,” Even says soothingly.

“If you tell me to calm down right now, I swear on my fucking life, Even -”

Even holds up both hands in surrender. “No, just there’s no use arguing over what happened. We’re here and we’re missing a sleeping bag, so we have to figure it out.” He’s logical, which makes Isak narrow his eyes and cross his arms again.

“Fine,” he says warily. “They can’t both share Andre’s; it’s too small and it’s not warm enough.”

“We’ll give them ours.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “Oh, and we’ll sleep with what? Wrapped up in the fucking tent?”

“No. We’ll share Andre’s.”

“We’ll share Andre’s,” Isak repeats, dumbfounded that Even would even suggest that.

Even nods, pleased with his solution.

And that’s the story of how Isak Valtersen, at twenty-eight years of age, finds himself once again wrapped up in a dinosaur sleeping bag with the love of his life during a camping trip gone beautifully awry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh this verse is done <3 thx everyone for reading i love u all kiss kiss

**Author's Note:**

> hnnngghuhhh i started another wip its Bad Folks
> 
> pls dont @ me i wrote this during my 9hr st marathon fueled only by coffee, potato chips, and oreos and its unbetaed
> 
> anyways im gay and depressed come talk to me on [tumblr](https://lesbovilde.tumblr.com/)


End file.
